


But You Love Him

by peacefrog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything you touch turns to ashes, to dust. You can’t fix broken wings any more than you can fix the angel sized hole in your chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But You Love Him

He scattered stardust in your bones when he pulled you from the pit, you’re certain of that now. It’s why they ache when he’s away, like some magnetic force willing you to move. To be near him once more; you crave him. You hear his voice over the phone and your hands shake. If only that stardust resonating within could allow you to reach through the receiver, press your fingers to his lips, kiss the spaces behind his knees, feel his eyelashes flutter on your cheek.

You sit there shaking when he hangs up for 15 minutes instead. You want to scream like a child who has fallen in the snow. You’re cold, you need your mother, your brother, your best friend. You need a hand on your face, the warmth of flesh against your own. You don’t want it from lonely fingers that have never traced the expanse of your shoulders, your nose. You want his calloused fingers on your jaw. You want his collarbone between your teeth, his palms on your back.

You jerk off in the shower every morning thinking about his mouth on your neck, on your thighs, wrapped around your cock. You think about coming deep inside him as he wraps his body around your own. You think about the way he looks at you with your clothes on, and wonder if it would feel the same, both of you undressed, moving, breathing, moaning into each others mouths.

You find a bird with a broken wing in the road, flapping helplessly against the pavement. You put it in a box and spend three days trying to nurse it back to health. It dies in the middle of the night beneath a heat lamp. You shouldn’t have expected anything different. Everything you touch turns to ashes, to dust. You can’t fix broken wings any more than you can fix the angel sized hole in your chest.

Something aches within you, something is broken beneath your rib cage, behind your eyes. You press your palms to your eyelids and press until they burn. You don’t have it in you to miss him any more than you already do, yet somehow the ache intensifies. You’re so angry with yourself for loving. You’re so angry with him for making you feel half worthy and completely helpless. You don’t want to love him. But you love him…you love him.


End file.
